


Salt of the Earth

by Vadianna



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amish!Ben, Barn Sex, Farm sex, I'm so fucking sorry for this whole thing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Recreational Drug Use, like holy shit please don't do any of this, really unrealistic sex, unreasonable sex implements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 19:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10883601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vadianna/pseuds/Vadianna
Summary: For theKylux Hard Kinks prompt:Farmer au where theyre both country boys and hux thinking kylo looks so hot when hes churning butter. And maybe at some point the butter churning stick thing makes it into huxs ass and then maybe kylos dick makes it into huxs ass. + they improvise lube with butter or cream or something ++ they do it in a barn on some rough haystacks ++ sort of a little boy blue aesthetic except hux isnt falling asleep behind the haystack hes half naked and getting plowedMore or less.





	Salt of the Earth

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I grew up in Amish country, and this is what happened when I read that prompt.
> 
> I am so fucking sorry you have no idea.
> 
> Also, please never do any of this. Not a single thing in here is a good idea, ever.

Hux wiped his brow and scowled up at the sun, cursing Dameron yet again for this misadventure. His shitty Ford had broken down in the middle of nowhere, and he’d been walking down the barely paved road for an hour and a half. It was a beautiful and cloudless ninety degrees out, he was drenched in sweat, and had long since succumbed to a sunburn on his face, scalp, arms, and probably everywhere else. The straps of his sandals were digging painfully into his feet. The tar-and-gravel road was giving off a strong chemical smell, and Hux had a pounding headache. He should find some shade away from the road and sit for a few minutes, but clinging to his misery was satisfying.

Dameron had given him useless directions that were something like “follow 14 to 7, then take 428 to the turn past Overkill, and you’ll see a yellow house with my guy out front.” Hux had put the address into his phone as insurance.  But he'd lost the GPS signal just before he'd lost his cell service entirely as he meandered further down the back roads.  He couldn't even call and verbally incinerate Dameron. He still wasn’t sure if this was a real road or an access road to someone’s farm. Those were sometimes dirt roads, and this one was at least paved. But he’d seen no buggies or cars since his Ford had given out.

He swore again as yet another insect bit him. He had been walking past fields and thin copses of maple and oak trees that provided little shade from the blistering sun. He didn’t feel lucky, but he realized that one bright spot was that he hadn’t broken down in the nearby swamps and creek bottoms. Fuck knew what would get him down there.

A barn structure was coming into view, with a quaint house tucked a distance behind it up a steep grassy hill. The barn was surrounded by a rolling hayfield, wild and in need of mowing. With nothing else to look at, he scrutinized the barn as he walked closer, spotting a rutted dirt path that led to the entrance from the road. Crossing in front, he saw movement inside the dark barn, and hope flared thinly.

He mustered his energy and began trotting up, hating the way the dust stuck to his sweaty legs. Yet another reason to hate Dameron - he had advised Hux that he needed to look “less like he had a stick shoved up his ass” when meeting a new dealer, and had loaned him cutoff denim shorts. They were too large at the waist and slouched off Hux’s hips. And, because it was Dameron, they were cut very high, exposing too much of Hux’s pale thigh to sunburn. Though he hated the shorts, Dameron was probably right, so he had dug an old t-shirt from the depths of his own closet to match - a tight-fitting thin gray shirt with a Miller logo on it, the sleeves also cut off. He couldn’t remember why he had it.

He was sweating through it, and used the hem to wipe his face as he approached the barn. He scowled at the face-shaped damp spot, then squinted as he stepped inside the dark, significantly cooler interior of the barn, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

His scowl deepened as he realized he was on an Amish farm. They wouldn’t have a phone or a car, but perhaps he could beg a ride somewhere.

The man in the the barn was leaning casually against the handle of a wooden butter churn, having apparently stood and stopped his work to watch Hux. Hux skimmed briefly over the man’s attire - black pants and suspenders over a blue button-up collared shirt, the cuffs rolled up to his (rather large) biceps, crowned with a brimmed straw hat. That was all as Hux had expected. More unusually, the man appeared to have dark curly hair that was far longer than Hux knew Amish men to keep it. He also lacked a beard, though he was definitely old enough to have one. The man watched Hux with dark eyes and one of his dark boots propped on the short stool he’d been sitting on.

He was silent, and Hux decided he should just ask and get this over with. “Hello, I… my car, uh, broke down. It died. Down the road.” He turned and pointed, then glanced back at the stranger, unsure what his opinion of cars was. Was Hux allowed in his barn? Was the man not supposed to speak to him?

Unexpectedly, the man answered in an unusual dialect of German. “I know what a car is,” followed by some insult that Hux didn’t understand.

“I can understand German, asshole,” Hux answered, the insult coming before he could think better of it. He scowled deeper and crossed his arms. “I know you know what a car is. Are you allowed to give me a ride or not?”

The stranger’s eyes brightened with interest, and he drug his gaze up and down Hux in a way that made Hux blink uncertainly, then dismiss it.

“I’m _allowed_  to do what I want. I can give you a ride. Where do you want to go?”

“Do you know where the nearest tow truck is?”

The stranger rolled his eyes, then gestured to the butter churn. “Do I look like I’d know?”

“You’re the one that said you knew what a car was.”

“I do.” His gaze went back down to Hux’s shorts, and Hux tugged at the cutoff hem, slightly embarrassed, adding _immodesty in front of the Amish_ to the long list of reasons to gut Dameron when he saw him again.

When the stranger continued to stare silently at Hux’s shorts, Hux tried to continue the conversation. “Can you give me a ride to Lennyville, then?”

The man looked back at Hux’s face, giving him a sour expression. “Why?”

“I know there’s a truck there. Or at least a phone. Do you have a phone?” Maybe he did. Hux could hope.

The man gestured outside. “Sure. I know you wouldn’t think so, but we just buried all our lines. Or no,” he looked thoughtful at this, and swung his gaze to the roof of the barn, then back to Hux. “Let me just get my cellphone out, and I’ll get someone here for you right away.”

Hux huffed and gestured. “I know you can make butter and insult me, and I don’t need any fucking butter or insults right now. Either you can give me a ride or you can’t. If not, I’ll keep walking.”

A broad smile broke over the man’s face at Hux’s cursing, and Hux’s stomach tightened at the result on the man’s face. Hux quickly dismissed the thought again. “The cream might help with your sunburn. It looks like you could use some shade.”

Hux’s eyes widened, and he grimaced slightly at the thought of the contents of the churn on his skin. “No. But I’d take water, if you have it.”

The man raised his eyebrows, but turned and walked to a large pail elsewhere in the barn. He produced a tin cup and dipped into the pail, then handed it to Hux.

“I’ve got milk from the butter. No water here.”

Hux frowned at the warm contents of the cup. The thought of drinking warm milk that had so recently been in a cow disgusted him, but he suddenly realized how dry his throat was, and downed the contents without thought, clenching his throat to keep it down.

“Thank you.”

“Ben.”

Hux blinked. “What?”

The man gestured. “I’m Ben. Your name?”

He was startled into giving it. “Hux.”

The man’s gaze went back down to Hux’s shorts. “You sure you don’t need any of that cream for your skin?”

Hux blinked again, having a harder time dismissing the nuances of this exchange. But surely not. The man was _Amish._  “Yes.” He took a step backwards. “So can you give me a ride, Ben?”

“I can give you a ride, Hux.” At this, he bent over the churn and popped the lid, shifting the pole to the side and reaching in to gather some of the cream on his fingers.

“But I think you really need some of this.”

Before Hux could react, Ben had stepped close and smeared the cream across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. The heat and pain that had been pulsing there cooled immediately, even as Hux registered that the cream was also warm and absolutely repulsive.

He closed his eyes involuntarily, then remembered to get angry as he opened them and stepped back, rubbing at his cheeks - pretending to rub the cream off, but subtly rubbing it in, relishing the relief.

“Fantastic. Now I’ll smell like sweat _and_  spoiled milk. I’m sure the tow driver will love riding with me.”

Ben still had that damn smirk on his face, and Hux was having a harder time dismissing his suspicions. “It feels good, doesn’t it? And I like the way you smell. You’re quite sunburned. All over. Why don’t I… keep going?”

Hux let his mouth fall open, then closed it again. He put his hands up. “Look, I don’t know what you guys do here-”

Ben had more cream on his hand, rubbing the thick, greasy substance between his fingers. “What ‘us guys’ do here? Certainly not each other. We’re not _sodomites_  after all. My loss. Good thing you stopped by.”

Hux’s mouth remained open and his mind blanked as Ben grabbed his sunburned arm with his slicked hand, massaging it briefly before bringing his finger to Hux’s lips, coating them in greasy cream before bringing his own to them.

Hux closed his eyes against the kiss and gripped Ben around his (still rather large) biceps, damp through the cloth of his loose shirt. He wasn’t thinking as he let his tongue explore the inside of Ben’s mouth, he wasn’t thinking when one of Ben’s large, calloused hands came up to stroke his sweaty hair, and he definitely wasn’t thinking when his own hands came up to the buttons on Ben’s shirt.

“Fuck you, this isn’t even a fantasy of mine,” Hux said, pulling away. “I didn’t even think Amish people _had_  sex.”

Ben chuckled, and Hux could feel it through his chest as he continued to unbutton his shirt. “We don’t.”

“What a shame. I’ll have to settle for blowing your honest Amish dick, then.”

“Oh, it’s very honest. But I was hoping for… something else.”

Ben’s hand went down and hooked underneath the short frayed hem of Hux’s shorts. In defiance of Dameron’s mandate to be more casual, Hux had worn his g-string, and Ben hummed in interest when he discovered it.

“You’ve come prepared.”

Hux pushed away for a moment, dizzy with… all of this. He put his hand out.

“Hold on.”

Ben cocked his head, the glint back in his eye. “Why?”

Hux shook his head, and would probably be blushing if not for the sunburn and warm cream slathered all over his face. “Because! I’ve been walking through the sun for nearly two hours, and found an Amish man in a barn who- seriously? Are you suggesting we fuck? Where? Over the butter churn?”

Ben turned to it, then looked back to Hux, a mild look on his face. “We can if you want.”

“If _I_  want?" Hux's voice had gone high, and he swallowed, trying to get himself more under control. "Do you… do you make a habit of fucking any traveler that stumbles past your barn?”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Do you know how many gay men there are here?”

Hux’s brows drew together for a moment. “No?”

“Just me. Of course I’d try, when you walk up looking like that.” His gaze dropped to Hux’s chest, and then his shorts, and Hux had a harder time quashing his own arousal in the wake of the naked heat in Ben’s gaze, below the brim of his ridiculous straw hat.

Hux shook his head, taking a step further back. “Won’t you-” his eyes darted away, and back. “Can’t you get in trouble for this? For sex, surely?”

“What, do you think they’d believe an outsider?” Ben smiled and shook his head. “No. They wouldn’t believe you if you told them.” Ben frowned. “Not that you’d even know who to tell. Would you?”

Hux snorted. “No. I’m not up on the community hierarchy. And _I_  almost don’t believe it, and you had your hand in my shorts.”

Ben's smile turned dark and he stepped closer, closing his hands around Hux’s hips where the cutoffs had slid further down. Hux swallowed against the feeling of Ben's calloused fingers against the bare, sweaty skin of his hip.

“Believe it. Where were we?”

Hux leaned in to capture Ben’s lips again, resigning himself to… whatever this was. Maybe he’d died in the sun. This was a pleasant hallucination, in any case.

Ben licked the cream from his cheek, and Hux closed his eyes and _hmmm_ ed as he felt the roughness of Ben’s tongue across his sunburn. When Ben’s hand went under and inside his shorts again, Hux leaned in and bit his earlobe.

“Had lots of takers coming down the path, have you?”

He felt Ben exhale against his sweaty neck. “Mmm… can’t say that I have.”

Hux pulled away, frowning, bracing his hands against Ben’s shoulders, trying not to get distracted by the way Ben’s thumbs were sliding over his hips. “But you want to fuck me?”

Ben gave a grin that was absolutely evil before leaning down to bite Hux at the juncture of neck and shoulder. Hux forgot to not be distracted for a moment before he pushed Ben away again.

“I see.” So Ben wasn’t as experienced? Hux could do this. This might be fun. It might even salvage his shitty afternoon.

“First, remove that shirt. I want to see what you look like.”

Ben had his suspenders off his shoulders and the shirt unbuttoned and on the floor of the barn faster than Hux believed possible. He revealed the kind of physique that Hux thought didn’t exist in real life - huge pectorals that narrowed into a thin waist, well-defined stomach muscles, and powerful arms. A drop of sweat rolled down Ben’s neck and across the pale expanse of his chest.

Hux lost the thread of his plan for a moment as he leaned in to lick the sweat from Ben’s chest, then teased one of Ben’s nipples with his tongue. The plan left his mind almost completely when Ben appeared to consent enthusiastically to this, moaning wonderfully and running one of his big hands through Hux’s sweaty hair over and over again.

Hux generally insisted on cleanliness during sex. He preferred to start with a shower together, in fact, just to make sure his partner was as scrupulously clean as he was. The thought of how _dirty_  both he and Ben were came to him, and was quickly dismissed. This was happening. He would either have to deal with it or stop, and he certainly couldn’t stop now.

Ben’s moans were loud enough that something else began to trouble him. He straightened and looked at Ben’s face curiously. Ben was flushed, and more sweat had run from under his hat and down his neck. Hux tried not to look at it, lest he lose his train of thought and lick it off again.

“Will anybody hear us in here?”

Ben closed his eyes and shook his head, more sweat dripping from the dark curls below his hat. “I’m the only one around today.” He opened his eyes just a little and an annoyed look crossed his face. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”

Hux pushed him away in a huff, figuring now was a good time to continue. “Pull up your suspenders and get down on your knees. Smart enough for those instructions?”

Ben gave him an arch look, but complied, kneeling in front of Hux on the clean floor of the barn. His hands came up and undid the front of the cutoffs, and the former pants slid easily to the floor. Hux crossed his arms and tried to look imperious as he took in the open wonder on Ben’s face at the sight of Hux’s underwear - they were red silk, and there was barely enough cloth to cover his dick when he was soft, which he certainly wasn’t now.

Ben ran his thumbs along the skin of Hux’s legs, underneath the thin silk fabric of his underwear. Hux noted clinically that his hands were very clean, and filed that information away for later consideration. To his surprise, Ben pushed his hat back and leaned in to grasp the underwear with his teeth, pulling the fabric down to the base of Hux’s erection, a look of reverent joy on his face.

Ben gripped Hux by the hips again as he began a tentative blowjob. Hux had definitely had better, but Ben was at least enthusiastic. He licked up the length, then dipped the tip gently into his mouth, wrapping his lips around the head briefly before pulling back with a sucking sound, then blowing on it softly.

The sensation of Ben’s breath against his cock was… a bit better than his tongue, actually, and Hux let his impassive expression slip slightly as he closed his eyes and clenched his jaw against the feeling. He’d never had a partner that _actually_  blew on his dick.

Ben had resumed the short strokes of his tongue and the tentative caresses with his lips, and Hux opened his eyes. Ben was still wearing the wide-brimmed straw hat, and the view of his face and the blowjob was blocked, which was not going to work.

“Have you ever seen a penis before? Do you have any idea what feels good? Take off your hat.” Hux hoped to mask his arousal with annoyance. Ben had been a little too confident with his pickup. Which he would have to be, Hux supposed - how else would Hux have even registered Ben was trying? Ben was _Amish_. It would have never crossed his mind. But still, Hux didn’t appreciate it, and thought it best to mask just how much he was enjoying Ben on his knees.

Ben removed the hat, glowering at Hux as he did so. He revealed the most magnificent hair, and Hux had to clench his fingers around his own arms to keep from impulsively running his fingers through the sweaty mess of it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize there was a wrong way to have a mouth on a cock.”

“There is,” Hux snapped. “Stand up. Obviously you need to be shown.”

Ben smirked, getting off his knees. “Obviously.”

Hux kicked aside his shorts and knelt, more eager than he wanted to admit to have Ben’s dick in his mouth. He gestured impatiently at the front of Ben’s pants. “Well? Undo these, unless you want me to blow you through the front of your pants.”

Ben looked curious, but undid the small buttons of his fly as asked. It was a relief - Hux had been intimidated by the idea that the closure might be something he hadn’t seen before, and he didn’t want Ben to make fun of him.

Hux pulled open the pants and pulled down the waist of the shorts inside, freeing Ben’s considerable erection.

His control fell away as he stared, openly shocked. He looked from Ben’s dick to his face, and back again. Ben looked more unsure, a bit nervous. “What? Is there something wrong with it?”

Hux was absolutely not going to comment on how enormous it was. He narrowed his eyes and looked up at Ben. “Do you know how to use this?”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

Hux shook his head. “We’ll see.” He leaned in closer, glancing up at Ben through his eyelashes, and back down to the task in front of him.

He ran his tongue up and down, paused, and then swallowed the whole thing, congratulating himself on all the practice he’d had for this exact moment. Hux had a hand around the base, and could feel Ben’s balls draw up and his fingers dig painfully into his shoulders as he gave a gasp like a wounded animal above him. Alarmed, Hux clenched his fingers around the base and pulled off.

“Absolutely _not_. Who knows where you’ve been? I’m not going to have you coming down my throat and giving me God-knows-what disease you’ve picked up from stranded strangers.”

Ben gasped, slightly doubled over, and he looked Hux in the face, almost desperate. He gave a sound somewhere between a moan and a whine. “Fine! You’re… I’ve never done this before, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” And at that, the look on his face was somewhere between desperate and angry. Ben was completely red, and his sweaty black curls framed his face as he leaned forward. Hux rather liked him like this.

“Mmm. That makes things easier.” He looked back at Ben’s dick, which was also flushed an angry red color. He could feel it pulsing in his hand. “You’re going to have to calm down, because I don’t want to wait until you’re ready to go again.” He looked back up at Ben, considering. “You’re going to have to last significantly longer. If I let go, can you stop yourself from coming?”

Ben nodded, making that whining noise again. Hux felt the straining in Ben’s dick ease slightly, and he let go. Ben gripped himself after Hux did, and Hux leaned back on his heels.

“Hmm. Well. Here’s what we’ll do.” He looked at the butter churn again, then back to Ben, who looked more confounded than Hux had ever seen a partner. He couldn’t help his satisfied smirk, running his eyes over the bare expanse of Ben’s chest again. “I don’t have any lube with me, and we’re going to have to do better than…” he glanced at the churn, then back at Ben. “I don’t think the cream will be slick enough.”

“Tallow,” Ben gasped. “I have tallow. Grease. Is that what you want?”

Hux shrugged. “I don’t know. Let me see it.”

Ben went to the side of the barn, coming back with a corked ceramic jar containing some sort of white grease that smelled absolutely disgusting. He frowned, looking back up at Ben. “What do you use this for?”

Ben shrugged. “Cooking. We burn it. We also use it as lubricant. Will it work?”

Hux wrinkled his nose and rubbed some between his fingers. It seemed like it would. “Do I want to know what it is?”

Ben, somewhat calmed, gave him another one of his dark smiles. “That depends on what you want to do with it.”

Well. It was going up his ass, so Hux supposed it really didn’t matter, and he was better off not knowing. “Get some of that cream. We’ll use both.”

Ben frowned, but was already walking over to the churn with a small bowl. “What are we using them for?”

“You’re going to stick your fingers up my ass.”

Ben wrinkled his nose and looked annoyed. “What? Why?”

“ _Why_? Are you serious?”

“Yes. Why would I put my fingers up your ass?”

Hux rolled his eyes. “How do you think you’re going to fit that massive cock up there?”

Ben stood in front of him, still looking angry, still sporting a distractingly massive erection from the front of his open pants, held up with suspenders that Hux could not stop looking at. “So I have to put my fingers up there first?”

Hux raised an eyebrow. “Have you never done that to yourself?”

Ben shook his head. “Why would I?”

Hux shrugged. “I often do it when I masturbate. Almost every time, in fact.”

Ben shook his head again, his annoyance warring with skepticism. “You’re not serious. You put your fingers up your ass?”

“How can you know about anal sex, and not believe that it feels good to have fingers up your ass?”

Ben snorted. “It feels good to have your dick inside something, no matter what it is.” He paused, looking more troubled now. “I guess I didn’t think about what it felt like to have one inside you.”

Hux didn’t know whether to be angry or saddened by this revelation. “Well, I’m going to have to come back later.”

Ben looked suddenly hopeful. Hux almost immediately regretted saying it, as Ben was probably more trouble than he was worth, but the idea of _teaching him_  made Hux’s dick throb with interest. He tried to keep the thought off his face as he sighed and looked down at the bowl of cream.

“Hmm. Let’s start with the… tallow? It seemed slicker.”

Ben set the cream on the ground and knelt. “So can I stay down here? While I… do I just push my fingers up… inside?”

Hux turned around to keep from laughing. “I would never let you do this to me if I hadn’t done it myself earlier.” Hux had, in fact, done this _rather thoroughly_  before he’d left his house. He’d used the largest cock in his collection. He wouldn’t have to worry about Ben hurting him.

He bent over and spread his legs, bracing his arms against the barn wall. He grinned to himself when Ben gasped, and Hux hoped he was noticing the thin strip of fabric that ran between his buttocks - Hux knew he didn’t have much to show off, but the underwear really complimented him. If he did come back, he’d have to wear something else nice.

Ben stroked against the underwear again, then gently pulled them down Hux’s legs. He then felt a big, calloused, sweaty palm cup one ass cheek delicately - oh yes, that was _wonderful._  But he hissed as Ben slid it down his thigh, his rough skin painful against Hux’s sunburn.

Ben made a noise, then exhaled. “Oh. I forgot you were burned. I’ll use the cream for that.”

“Ben, _do not smear_ -”

But it was too late, Ben was rubbing the cream into Hux’s thigh. It was cool against the burn, and Hux enjoyed the slickness of Ben’s hand there, and the cream did feel absurdly good against the burn, spoiled milk smell or not. While he was focused on that, Ben pushed the knuckle of one of his other fingers against Hux’s hole.

“The _tip_ , Ben. Use the tip of your finger, like you’re poking it inside. Don’t just shove a knuckle in.”

Ben huffed in annoyance, and Hux felt his index finger slide easily inside a moment later. As expected, Ben’s big fingers felt heavenly, especially with his other hand rubbing the cream into his burned thighs. Hux exhaled and relaxed, moving his hips fractionally.

“Move it in and out a few times.” He kept his voice steady. He could take much, much more of this.

Ben complied. He was much rougher than an experienced partner would have been. Hux let him continue for a time before he asked for a second finger. Then Ben stood, leaning over Hux, his sweaty chest pressed into Hux’s bare back, and he rubbed the cream onto Hux’s neck and into his forearms as he bit Hux’s earlobe and fucked him with two fingers.

Ben didn’t seem to understand what Hux meant when he asked to move his fingers inside. Frustrated and losing his self-control, Hux began to fuck himself back onto Ben’s fingers. Ben stilled as Hux began doing this, but it wasn’t right. Ben was simply not good at this. With _those fingers_. It was a tragedy. Hux debated having Ben add a third finger, but Ben was so clueless. Hux grunted in annoyance, pulling off Ben’s fingers, ridiculously aroused and frustrated.

"Does that really feel good?" Ben asked, tentatively.

"Not that specifically, no," Hux answered sharply. He turned around to face Ben, who was grinning and still gripping Hux by the shoulders. “Do you want to do this here? Or would you prefer the butter churn?”

Ben wasn’t going to last long enough to give Hux what he wanted, and Hux was too angry and turned on to do it himself. He opened his mouth to give Ben a cutting and likely unwise remark about his lack of experience, but his eyes landed on the handle of the butter churn, and his face cleared.

“Yes. The churn will do.” He frowned at Ben, then went over to inspect it.

“Did you build this?” He re-seated the lid idly and looked from the handle of the churn over to Ben, who was staring at him without an ounce of subtlety. Hux was probably a sight - naked, alternately pale and sunburned, with cream and God-knew-what smeared all over, his red hair sweaty and sticking out. He didn’t want to know. Apparently Ben didn’t care, or liked what he saw.

Of course he did. What did Ben know?

“I built it,” Ben answered, belatedly, throwing a brief glance at the churn, then looking hungrily back at Hux. “The old one wore out.”

“You did such a good job. The handle is so smooth.”

“Yeah,” Ben answered absently. “The wood will splinter after you use it awhile, so you have to use a thick finish on it. Nice and smooth. You have to touch it up sometimes, it wears out around the grip.” He stopped, then added, “It also doesn’t leak cream.”

Hux supposed that would have been impressive, under other circumstances, but he was most interested in the smooth handle. It was about waist tall, and he had just talked himself into doing something very stupid indeed.

The handle wasn’t quite as wide as Ben’s dick, nor was it even as big around as the largest of Hux’s toys. He considered it a moment longer, then looked over at his discarded shorts, making a decision.

Ben made a sound of protest as Hux gathered up his shorts, then pulled out his wallet. He extracted a condom, opened it, then scooped some of the tallow from the jar and went back to the handle.

“What’s that for? I thought…” Ben looked confused. “Someone told me you aren’t supposed to keep those in your wallet?”

“What do you know about condoms?” Hux snapped, slightly embarrassed about what he was contemplating, but too turned on to care at this point.

With the wide stool next to the churn, he thought he could just about manage. He rolled the condom over the handle and slathered what was, quite frankly, a disgusting amount of tallow onto it, then stepped up on the stool, steadied a foot on the rim of the churn, and sat down.

Ben gasped, scandalized, and Hux contented himself with the sensation. It wasn’t… bad. Better than Ben’s fingers, in fact, because Ben clearly had no idea what was happening back there.

The balance was a little precarious, and it hurt a bit when he didn’t land quite right, but this was more or less exactly what Hux needed. He worked himself around on the handle, guiding it with one hand, and began moaning more openly than he had when Ben had been behind him. He didn’t touch his own dick yet, he wanted Ben to do that - Ben would finish inside him fast, and he needed to get himself to the point where he would come as soon as Ben touched him, or he would leave furious.

“Can-” Hux opened his eyes, broken from his concentration on the handle at the tentative sound of Ben’s voice. Ben looked completely awe-struck, his eyes darting between the churn and Hux’s erection. He looked up at Hux’s face, gathered his lower lip between his teeth in an obscenely fetching way, then got the rest of the question out, an earnest look on his face.

“Can you churn the butter while you do that?” Ben asked in a rush, shoulders hunching slightly, mortification suddenly visible on his face. “So I can… think about it next time I have to churn?” He added, more quietly.

The sincere nature of the question, and the simple urge behind it, hit Hux incredibly hard and undid him in a way he absolutely did not approve of at the moment. He stopped and took a few breaths, steadying himself in the wake of Ben’s honesty.

He tried to think of something clever to say, but couldn’t. Which was for the best, because really, he wasn’t nearly charming enough to pull off clever with a butter churn up his ass.

He stepped up onto the wide lid and rim on top of the churn. This really was unreasonably dangerous, and his thigh muscles were already protesting, but. Ben had asked. So he did. He got a grip below himself on the handle, and in one of the most surreal, ridiculous moments of his life, he did as Ben asked.

Not for very long. Only really a few times. And he came to his senses, got down, retrieved another condom, and asked Ben to finish him, like a sensible person.

“Why do you have so many condoms in your wallet?” Ben asked, subdued, still looking at Hux with something like awe on his face.

“For the same reason you ask passerbys if they’d like to have sex.” Hux shrugged, then rolled the condom over Ben’s sizable erection, annoyed at the thought that the condom probably wasn’t large enough, though Ben didn’t seem to mind. He looked back up into Ben’s face, impassive expression on his own. “Sometimes I’m feeling lucky.”

He allowed himself a small grin at that, and Ben returned it wider, before running his thumbs back over Hux’s greasy cheeks.

When Hux turned back around and braced himself against the barn wall, he felt Ben go still behind him.

“Can… can I do it when you’re laying down on the floor?”

Hux turned back around and pretended to scrutinize the floor while studiously avoiding looking at Ben’s face. He suddenly hated this, unreasonably, but silently assented, laying down and giving Ben an annoyed, put-upon sigh as he grabbed his own thighs and hoisted his knees up near his head.

“Do you understand what to do from here?” Again, Hux would hesitate to let someone as large and inexperienced as Ben anywhere near him, but he’d just had a butter churn up his ass, and had fucked himself with the most ridiculous toy one could procure on the internet only hours earlier. Ben couldn’t really do any more damage than Hux already had.

Ben nodded slowly, his mouth opening slightly at the sight of Hux presented on the floor.

“No,” Hux called out, unwittingly, when Ben began to remove his suspenders. He covered this embarrassment by explaining further. “Leave your pants on.” He nodded to the side. “Put your hat back on, too.”

Ben looked annoyed, but shrugged back into his suspenders and retrieved his hat as he knelt in front of Hux. He pushed it back on his head, sweat still running down from his dark, damp hair and over his neck and down those ridiculous pecs. Hux would need to come back, if only to fuck himself between them.

Hux nodded. “Get some of the tallow, and make sure you rub a lot on your dick before you go in.” He didn’t want to think about how unsanitary the tallow was. Maybe they boiled it or cooked it before it went into the jar. That would disinfect it, right?

Ben studiously did as Hux asked, and Ben’s compliance was one more thing Hux added to the mental list of future experiments.

When Ben entered him, it was… it was _a lot_ , even after the way Hux had already abused himself. He felt full, and Ben was making a rather desperate whining noise again.

Against his better judgment, because this really was more intimate than he should have allowed already, he put one hand up to Ben’s face, where Ben’s eyes were squeezed closed.

“Ben. Are you all right?” His voice came out a little more thin than he would have liked, but somehow, Ben’s ridiculous horse cock was far worse than the churn handle had been.

Ben nodded, and took a few quick breaths before he opened his eyes again. His face was red, so red, and Hux suddenly didn’t feel as self-conscious about his sunburn. “Tight,” Ben muttered, almost not getting the word out. “You’re so tight, Hux. Feels good.”

“You need to refrain from dirty talk, Ben. Just in and out. When you feel like you’re going to come, you need to grab my cock and pump it. Can you do that?”

Ben shook his head. “I don’t think I can.”

A laugh bubbled up involuntarily from Hux’s chest, and he knew it really was very rude, especially after Ben had been so honest, but he couldn’t help himself. “All right. I’ll do it myself.”

Ben continued to stare at him without moving, and Hux became uncomfortable.  In a desperate attempt to break the mood, he reached into the bowl at his hip and came back up with the greasy cream, which he smeared with a thumb along Ben’s cheek. “You’re looking a little red yourself.”

Ben looked angry, but bent down to lick Hux’s cheek and thrust deeper inside Hux at the same time. This caused them both to moan, and Ben may have drooled on Hux’s face, just a bit. They both smelled rankly of sweat and dirt and spoiled milk and the horrible animal smell of the tallow, and Hux loved it. He knocked Ben’s hat off and grabbed his hair with both hands, pulling Ben closer and licking his cheek.

When Ben thrust once more, Hux felt him tense, and he reached one hand between them to give himself a few perfunctory strokes.

He felt Ben tense powerfully at the same time Hux came between them, adding the smell of his own semen to whatever was already smeared all over them.

Ben collapsed on top of him, gasping and moaning like he’d been hurt. Trying to collect himself, Hux was suddenly disgusted and overly hot, and pushed Ben onto the floor next to him.

After a few moments where they both breathed heavily and Ben made unreasonable wounded noises, Hux sat up, and Ben quieted, looking at him. As they stared at each other, the reality of what had just happened crashed down on Hux, and he suddenly wanted to die.

“Was it… was it very good, Hux?” Ben asked, weakly. “I want-”

“That was the worst sex I’ve ever had, Ben,” Hux said roughly, turning away and making a motion to grab his underwear, but stopping just short.

Against his better judgment, he glanced back at the wounded look on Ben’s face, and quickly away again. It was true that it was some of the worst sex he’d ever had, but it had, absurdly, been the most exciting, as well.

“You have a lot to learn before I’ll give you a compliment. We’ll have to try again some other time.”

He could hear Ben sit up, and this time Hux did grab his underwear and slide them on. He could feel the thick, viscous grease of the tallow squeezing out between his ass cheeks, and he could think of very little that was less pleasant than that. He’d have to bring real lube next time.

He snorted. _Next time._

He heard Ben get up and walk across the barn floor, the planks creaking under his weight. As he pulled on the ridiculous loaner shorts that Dameron had given him, he realized he’d have to wash them before he gave them back, and his lip curled.

When Ben came back, it was with two hand-rolled cigarettes. Hux arched his eyebrows when Ben held one out.

“I don’t smoke.”

Ben frowned. “Really? Most people are looking for the weed guy past Overkill when they stop here for directions.”

Hux reared back, shorts sliding back down his legs. “Is that weed?”

Ben snorted, then put one of the cigarettes between his lips. “Do you think I don’t smoke weed? Why wouldn’t I?”

Hux stared at him, then snatched the offered cigarette from his fingers, yanking his shorts back up his legs. “Of course you do,” he muttered. He buttoned his shorts, then stuck the cigarette between his lips and looked imperiously at Ben, sunburned arms crossed in front of his sweaty, come-stained chest.

“Well? Do you light these with flint, or do you have a real lighter here?”

**Author's Note:**

> I will apologize for this forever on Tumblr: [@vadianna](http://vadianna.tumblr.com)


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